Duncan Forbes of Culloden, Lord President.
From Original Painting at Culloden House.
The atrocities committed by the English must have been revolting to the humane mind of Lord President Forbes. On paying his respects to the duke at Inverness, he hinted to his highness that the laws of the country should be observed even by his army; but the duke, who entertained very different ideas, not relishing such an intrusion upon his authority, cut the worthy president short with this exclamation, “The laws of the country, my Lord! I’ll make a brigade give laws, by God!” Judging farther remonstrance to be vain, Forbes dropped the subject, and was compelled to deplore in silence the cruelties which he could not prevent. He might have represented the matter to the government; but he was perhaps unwilling to run the risk of incurring its displeasure, and thereby deprive himself of the chance of being afterwards useful in saving many families from ruin.[1237]
The enormities of the lawless soldiery were not confined to the Highlands, but extended to all the adjoining lowland districts where the spirit of disaffection was known to exist. The houses of the low country Jacobite gentry were plundered and destroyed, and the chapels of the nonjurant episcopal clergy, as well as the more humble and secluded places of worship belonging to the Catholics, were either razed or burnt to the ground. “Rebel-hunting” was the term adopted by the ruffians of the British army to designate their bloody occupation.
To complete the work of extermination, the duke issued a proclamation, denouncing the punishment of death, by hanging, against every person who should harbour the insurgents, and a similar fate was declared to await such as should conceal arms, ammunition, or any other thing belonging to them, or should not immediately deliver up to persons authorized by the duke to receive the same, any property or effects in their possession belonging to the rebels. In compliance with a requisition made by the duke, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, about the end of May, enjoined the ministers of the different parishes to read a proclamation from the pulpits, in which they themselves, and every well affected person, were ordered by his royal highness to use every exertion to discover and seize the unfortunate fugitives; and to facilitate their discovery and apprehension, the clergy were required to furnish lists of the names of all persons in their respective parishes who had had any share in the insurrection. Many clergymen, including those of Edinburgh, with feelings of humanity and independence which did them honour, refused to read this proclamation, or to comply with the order requiring them to give in the names of such of their parishioners as had been engaged in the rebellion. The government, equally intent with its sanguinary general upon the destruction of the unfortunate adherents of the house of Stuart, offered rewards for apprehending such of the fugitives as might land in Ireland, and instructions were sent to the British ministers at foreign courts in alliance with George II., to seize all who might seek refuge in the territories of such powers.
The guilt of all these acts of bloodshed and rapine has been laid to the charge of the Duke of Cumberland, and the single fact that he issued no orders to put an end to the enormities which were daily committed, almost under his own eyes, and with his perfect knowledge, seems of itself sufficient to justify the charge. But when taken in connexion with his sanguinary order not to make prisoners, the proofs of his criminality, or rather unconstitutional severity, are evident. Though the foul stain of wanton cruelty must ever attach to the British army on the present occasion, from the commander down to the private, there were some redeeming exceptions among the officers, who alleviated the sufferings, and, in some instances, saved the lives of the devoted Highlanders. “I think myself,” says Mr. Maxwell, “bound in justice to let the reader know that there were in the duke of Cumberland’s army officers of all ranks, whom neither the prospect of ingratiating themselves and making their fortunes, nor the contagion of bad example were able to corrupt. Some of those that had done the government the most essential services were as conspicuous now for their humanity as formerly for their courage and conduct. It might be indiscreet to be particular at present; but their names, which are written with indelible characters in the hearts of those poor people that owe to them the preservation of their being, will be carefully handed down to posterity. They are already known, and even, in the worst of times, meet with the applause they deserve from all those that have a fellow-feeling for their species.”
With the honourable exceptions here alluded to, neither the duke nor the submissive slaves of his tyrannical will ever appear to have felt the least compunction for the miseries they inflicted upon the unfortunate Highlanders. On the contrary, they seem to have revelled amidst the ruin and desolation which they spread around; and when their occupation of “rebel-hunting” was gone, by the destruction of their victims, they endeavoured to relieve the ennui of repose by ludicrous and indecent diversions. Horse and foot races were instituted by the royal duke, who did not think it beneath his dignity to induce the women of the camp to enter the lists, and to expose themselves in a way at which decency revolts.[1238] This species of amusement produced great insubordination in the army, for the soldiers got very fond of it, and, according to a volunteer, most of them had horses, which they bought and sold with one another at a low price, and on which they rode about, neglecting their duty, and consequently it became necessary to publish an order to part with them, otherwise they were all to be shot. “I saw,” continues the same writer, “a soldier riding on one of these horses, when, being met by a comrade, he asked him, ‘Tom, what hast thou given for the Galloway?’ Tom answered, ‘Half-a-crown.’ To which the other replied, with an oath, ‘He is too dear; I saw a better bought for eighteen-pence.’ Notwithstanding the low price, the vast quantities of cattle, such as oxen, horses, sheep, and goats, taken from the rebels, and bought up by the lump by the jockies and farmers from Yorkshire and the south of Scotland, came to a great deal of money, all which was divided amongst the men that brought them in, who were sent out in parties in search of the Pretender; and they frequently came to rebels’ houses, which they had left, as their owners would not be reduced to obedience. These our soldiers commonly plundered and burnt, so that many of them grew rich by their share of spoil.”
When the zeal and activity of the military in pursuing the leading fugitives on the one hand, and the great care of the government to prevent their escape to the continent on the other, are considered, it is surprising that so many succeeded in their attempts to leave the kingdom. Besides the Earls of Cromarty and Kilmarnock, and Lord Macleod, the only other Jacobite chiefs who fell into the hands of the government were the Marquis of Tullibardine, Lords Balmerino and Lovat, and Secretary Murray. The Marquis being unable, from the bad state of his health, to bear the fatigue of running from covert to covert, surrendered himself, on the 27th of April, to a Dumbartonshire gentleman, who committed him to the castle of Dumbarton; and Lord Balmerino, by the advice of Mr. Grant, younger of Rothiemurchus, most unwisely delivered himself up at Inverness, two days after the battle of Culloden. After having the mortification of witnessing, from the summit of a mountain, the conflagration of his seat of Castle Downie by the king’s troops, Lord Lovat took refuge in the western parts of Inverness-shire, and finally concealed himself in the hollow of a tree which grew on a small island in Loch Morar, where he was apprehended early in June by a party from the Furnace sloop of war. When discovered, he was wrapt up in a blanket; and, though he had between five and six hundred guineas in his pocket, had been obliged to live twelve days in his miserable retreat on oatmeal and water. Being unable, from his great age and infirmity, to ride, he was carried in a litter to the royal camp at Fort Augustus. Secretary Murray contrived to escape from the Highlands, and sought for safety in the house of his brother-in-law, Mr. Hunter of Polmood, in Peebles-shire; but information having been given of his retreat, he was apprehended on the morning of Saturday, the 28th of June, by a party of St. George’s dragoons, carried to Edinburgh, and committed the same evening a prisoner to the castle.
Macdonald of Barisdale and his son were also taken prisoners, but were almost immediately set at liberty. That a man who had taken such an active part in the insurrection as Barisdale did should have been liberated unconditionally is very improbable; and it was generally understood that he had entered into an engagement to apprehend the prince, and deliver him up to the Duke of Cumberland. So strong were the suspicions of Charles and his friends of Barisdale’s treachery, that when Colonel Warren arrived in the West Highlands for the purpose of transporting Charles to France, he actually seized Barisdale and his son, and carried them along with him to that country as prisoners. A list of charges, in the shape of interrogatories, was afterwards drawn up by Charles at Paris, to each of which Barisdale was required to make a direct and particular answer in writing; but the nature of his answers, if he made any, is not known. There may have been no foundation for these grave charges; but well or ill founded, an opinion long prevailed in the Highlands that Barisdale had been unfaithful.
If Glengarry’s apprehension proceeded upon the information of the gentlemen of his own clan, they must have had better grounds for taking the extraordinary step they are alleged to have done than the mere assertion of Barisdale; but the charge against Glengarry seems highly improbable, as it is scarcely credible, if, as stated, they had letters from him in their possession, advising them to take up arms in support of Charles, while he himself kept back, that he would, by such a perfidious act, have put himself in their power. Glengarry, after his apprehension, was sent to London, and, along with the other chief prisoners, was committed to the Tower, where he suffered a long and tedious confinement. Young Glengarry had been taken up some months previously and sent to the Tower, in which he was kept a close prisoner for twenty months.